


Volunteers Spent 11,700 Hours Picking Up 12,197 Pounds of Trash

by Skegulium



Series: Fantrolls - Hemoswap AU [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dzhiya is bronze and therefore she has the power to do what she wants, Gen, Hemospectrum Shift, NO LITTERING, Other, and what she wants is to run a state park, which she will and she will do so with GUSTO, you know where reds are royalty and fish are peasants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skegulium/pseuds/Skegulium
Summary: ==>Dzhiya Godwin | Nine sweeps | Deep in the Gilded Forest National Park | Hemoswap AU“My lady,” She said again. “We’re so sorry. We know your rules and we broke it but please, we didn’t mean to. We were just staying for a little bit and we were going to leave tonight. I promise. Please, my lady. We didn’t mean no harm.”Oh Handmaid herself. Oh, the pupa was begging for mercy.-----On a routine patrol of her forest, Dzhiya comes across a small campsite.





	Volunteers Spent 11,700 Hours Picking Up 12,197 Pounds of Trash

**Author's Note:**

> This probably is the writing equivalent of throwing a bag over an infant's head and dunking them repeatedly into the baptism basin, so uh, good luck with that. All of my drabbles are, of course, mirrored over on my fantroll blog (skegulium.tumblr.com).

**== >Dzhiya Godwin | Nine sweeps | Deep in the Gilded Forest National Park | Hemoswap AU**

 

If anyone asked you if there was anything else you’d want to do in life - _anything else_ \- you’re pretty damn sure you’d never be able to answer! After all, what else _could_ you do?

Moonlight was in your blood! Your lungs were filled with the scent of fresh pine! Your belly was warm and full with the fruits of the land that was under your care and you know what? You were happy with it! And your job? Easy! Easy peasy, so easy because it just meant you had to take care of what you loved with no exception.

None. Not for no one.

Not even the tiny, cowering little handful of scumblooded trolls trying so desperately to hide from you and your lusus.

Rule number 87 of the National Parks rule book, subsection 7.2B _explicitly_ forbids the use of national park grounds for long term housing (barring you, of course. You had a cabin tucked away but national park overseers had different rules than civilians) of more than two weeks. Here, in front of you, you can tell these pupas have been living here for, oh, at least a perigree or two. The were clever at least! Smarter too, with a nicely dug fire pit all lined with rocks. There were some metal poles hammered into the ground and one wall of a shopping cart being used as a grill. There were some wool and plastic tarps draped against some trees like a tent and a suitcase full or ratty clothes tucked deep inside of it. There was a single pan and a pot full of water and a rabbit trap stashed off to the side. The downside? Most anything that wasn’t made out of metal was made out of cheap laminate wood and plastic strips as rope. They had dollar store bowls and plastic utensils scattered around and you clicked your tongue as you nudged your toe against a crumpled ball of chips.

In front of you, near the entrance of the ratty tent, the smallest (but that was only because of age) of the three trolls peeled herself away from the group and stepped towards you. She was nothing but thin bones and thinner horns, with dewy eyes that flipped between the fire of defiance and the cold, cold shock of visceral fear.

You were _not_ used to seeing someone look at you like that. It made your hands clench anxiously at your side and she almost seemed to shrink at the gesture. Oops.

“My lady,” The little pupa stammered out, her head and horns bowing down in a… well that’s a bow usually reserved for the religious and the rubyblooded in the court, wasn’t it? She was bent down so low her horns touched the ground and her hands cupped up like she was begging for the sun to bless her pink fingertips. It was just a bit weird and your eyebrows creased as you watched her fins twitch and shake. Oh, she was only _four sweeps,_ you could tell, but she looked so much smaller all curled up on the forest floor.

“My lady,” She said again. “We’re so sorry. We know your rules and we broke it but please, we didn’t mean to. We were just staying for a little bit and we were going to leave tonight. I promise. Please, my lady. We didn’t mean no harm.”

Oh Handmaid herself. Oh, the pupa was begging for mercy. The other trolls couldn’t even move, they were so frozen in fear. No, the bravest one was the tiniest and even then it was just to beg.

You couldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at the two seven sweep olds behind her too and how they watched you and clutched at each other, claws digging into each other’s bony arms. Oh _Handmaid_ this was too much and you reached up with a shaky hand to comb your fingers through your hair as you started to pace around the fire. Sure, you looked like you were just surveying the grungy little camp, but you just couldn’t stand to look at them. Poverty was rarely in your forest and you were pretty content to ignore it if it wasn’t affecting you.

But now it was! Now it washed up on your shores like a piece of plastic, discarded by some troll who didn’t care where it ended up.

You can’t pace forever though and when you turn back, the little pupa is still bowed on the ground.

“Please, my lady,” The pupa said, quieter than before. “Please don’t hurt us. We’re leaving, I promise.”

Oh for fucks sake.

You don’t want to deal with this but you sigh anyway, breath shaking as you walked back. You stop in front of the little seadweller and you kneel to put one hand carefully - _real careful now!_ \- she flinches when you make contact on her shoulder. “Hey, stand up now,” You croon in your softest voice. The pupa’s fins are shaking like paper in the wind but she does as she’s told and she pulls back so she’s hunched over on her knees. It’s not quite standing up but you won’t force her.

She’s not even making eye contact with you but you just swallow your distress and push on. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m not going to fine you or anything. I don’t care that you’re here - “ You stop yourself real quick and give her a nervous smile. “ - Okay, maybe I care a bit about the littering but _don’t worry._ You’ll clean that up, right?”

The dewy eyed little girl stared up at you, her face still drawn with fear. Your smile did nothing to her and yours just tapered off of your face and you just cleared your throat. “I mean, I’d appreciate it if you did? The forest is a sensitive place and we’ve got trash receptacles off the main roads.” Wait, shoot, they’d probably be avoiding those, aren’t they? They’re seadwellers and you get a lot of midbloods or highbloods taking camping trips here. They’d get chased out if they flashed fin. “ - Or, like…”

You paused and you can _feel_ the three of them staring at you. Oh dear Handmaid.

You cleared your throat again and you try to steel your nerves. “Or like, since we _do_ have a policy against drifters in the park but _clearly_ you’re not drifters, don’t have to cite you for breaking rules! When you guys leave in three nights, if you leave any recyclables in trash bags here, I can make sure it’s taken care of and everyone’s happy! It’s not littering, it’s just making disposal easier!”

There’s a brief moment of silence and for a second, you’re mortified that maybe they didn’t get the hint. You didn’t want to say it outright! But then the pupa looks back at the two in the tent and they almost seem to have an entire silent conversation before one of the seven sweep olds unpeeled himself from the other and crawled out.

“I-I think we can do that,” He stammered out, one dead fin hanging limp and bouncing as he nods. “Th-three nights - y-y-yeah. We’ll b-be gone. Easy. A-and we’ll cl-cl-clean.”

Oh thank the _Handmaid!_ You beam back at the boy and you stand up. “Great! Well, I better get going then! There’s some trolls over the ridge I got complaints about so I gotta go investigate so it was great meeting you guys! And thanks for visiting the park!”

You wave your goodbyes and give them all a smile and then you fucking _book_ it. Or, well, not _book_ it book it but you bee lined out of there like you were hunting down an escaped lusus. You’re not good at things like this. You don’t talk to waders much and never do you find any squatting on your property. You knew they were sad but…

You slow down once you’ve climbed a ridge and you turn back to look at the clearing you’ve left behind. You can still see the peek of tents through the trees if you lean just right and the bobble of their heads as they try to pack things up. It makes you feel guilty kicking them out but you can’t show them special favors, can you? They’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. First time offenders always get a warning and this is a warning, right? Nothing special about it. You were a good, non-discriminatory public official!

That’s all you can tell yourself as you turn away and head back into the forest, the dewy eyes of the seadweller girl still in mind.


End file.
